


Cheating Derek: The One About Post Friday "Date Night"

by Always_Bottom_Derek, Benn_Xavier, IcyCryos



Series: Cheating Derek Series [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Derek, Cheating Derek, Come Sharing, Come Swallowing, Eavesdropping, M/M, Not Recommended if You Are a Hardcore Sterek Fan, Oral Sex, Power Bottom Derek Hale, Read at Your Own Risk, Watersports, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Bottom_Derek/pseuds/Always_Bottom_Derek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benn_Xavier/pseuds/Benn_Xavier, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyCryos/pseuds/IcyCryos
Summary: After Kyle and Jesse spit-roasted Derek on the hood of his Camaro before one of his and Stiles' usual Friday dates, Derek finds he still has one lawman left to deal with before this particular "date night" is over.Another installation in the "Cheating Derek" series.





	1. Ice Cream Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you like Stiles so much you can't deal with him being cheated on and cuckolded, we ask you not to read this. If you feel this way and don't heed our warning, we don't wish to hear your complaints. Thank you.
> 
> If you don't have any problem with Derek's slutty infidelities, we hope you like this newest excerpt from the "Cheating Derek Verse"!
> 
> \- Benn Xavier, Always_Bottom_Derek, IcyCryos

The drive from the Stilinski home to the ice cream parlor had been short and Stiles had spent the ride giving Derek the entire history of Hozier after one of his songs had come on the radio. So, it was just now they were able to fall into their comfortable routine, talking about the day.

“So, how was school?”

“Meh...” Stiles managed to use his shoulder to push the glass door ahead of him open and shrug simultaneously. Cones in hand, he and Derek headed outside the Baskin and Robbins.

Hearing the unusually monosyllabic reply Derek waited a few moments, silently counting down in his head.

_Five… Four... Three… Two…_

“Oh… but you’ll never believe the hilarious thing that happened to that dick, Harris, in chem class. The guy got so pissed! I swear, I thought he’d burst a vessel right there at his desk.” Derek smiled because, with that, right on schedule, Stiles was off; his unstoppable tongue set loose once again.

Despite Derek’s initial irritation when they’d first met with his boy’s rambling, over time he’d come to have a much greater appreciation of Stiles’ mouth.

_Oh, and he’d learned to enjoy his bursting talkativeness, too._

He made sure to pay full attention while internally thanking the gods Stiles rarely succumbed to the urge to ask him about his own day. It served him well on “cheating days” like today _(which was every day really)_ , that Stiles knew while he was happy to listen, he wasn’t the type for making chit chat.

As they stepped off the sidewalk, Stiles went and leaned against the Camaro’s hood, continuing his monologue in between big licks of his strawberry cheescake-flavored cone. _Yes, the very same hood Derek had been bred on just an hour ago by Kyle, the deputy still inside the ice cream shop, currently laughing happily along his wife and kids._

And it didn’t escape Derek’s notice _(or his dick’s)_ that Stiles was occupying  the same exact spot the other deputy, Jesse, had when he’d made him nurse his cock. This devious thought made his mouth water. _Fuck..._ It was impossible for him not remember their recent scene, a full sensory memory that even brought back the salty, bitter taste of Jesse’s semen to his mouth.

“Derek?

“Der, are you listening me?”

It took some seconds for Derek to notice Stiles tugging at the fabric of his Henley; he was so deep in his memories.

“Pay attention, idlewolf! You’re making a mess of yourself”

Brought back to the present, feeling something cold, Derek followed Stiles’ gaze with his own. His “salted, sweet-cream” caramel cone was well into melting. His right hand quickly becoming a drippy, caramel-flavored mess.

“Oh, shit!”

“Hey... What were you thinking about? It must have been good to steal your attention from my riveting Harris anecdote, huh?”

Brows raised in interest and inquiry, Stiles gave an x-rated lick to his own cone that painted his lips a frosty pink. He chuckled uncomfortably, “I hope it was about me...”

Derek’s mind was now caught between the ice cream melting on his hand, its sticky, heavy drips hitting the parking lot’s asphalt, and Stiles’ nut-brown eyes twinkling under the moonlight. Just in case his boyfriend’s bright ice cream smile wasn’t evidence enough, over the scent of sugar and tar he caught the happiness thickly wafting off Stiles.

Switching the hands holding his cone, Derek gave his coated one a shake. “Ugh, look at this mess.”

Pulling out one of his most charming smirks, he shot a glance at Stiles and lifted his own brows. “It’s your fault, you know. I got distracted by that delicious mouth of yours... Thinking about what I was going to have you do with it later. “And what you just did isn’t helping any.”

“Horndog,” Stiles teased, giving his cone another lascivious lick. His expression quickly changed from sultry to chagrined. “Dude! Don’t throw things on the street! Didn’t your mother ever teach you littering is bad citizenship?!”

Disregarding his beau’s protests, Derek dropped what was left of his runny cone on the curb. Getting rid of it fixed one problem but his hand was still a complete mess.

“I’m the perv? I’m not the one engaged in strawberry-cheesecake fellatio.”

He frowned, realizing he didn’t have a tissue on hand to clean himself and there was no way he’d break into his clean up kit in the Camaro, on off the chance Stiles might see it and start asking questions.

“Shit…” His mind cast back to earlier when he’d given all those napkins to deputy Kyle for his messy kid. “I should have gotten napkins for myself.”  

“So? Go back in and get some. I mean, the ice cream shop’s just a few feet away.”

But Derek didn’t want to see Kyle’s smug face again. Not because it was off-putting, but because he knew if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. He’d drag the deputy off for a second round- right there, right then.

He’d go down on his knees to suck Kyle off in the bathroom. Or, sneak him out to the back of the building behind some dirty dumpster. Even with his sensitive nose and the stench of grease and garbage, he wouldn’t care, as  long as there was a big dick filling his hole, hammering his ass hard.

Derek was snapped back from his reverie when Stiles yelled, “God, when did you get to be such a lazywolf?!” He huffed out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. “Okay… Get your ass over here.”

Derek’s asshole twitched at the order and a little more of Kyle’s cum leaked out of him. Feeling heat rise to his cheeks he was thankful there no one around to hear his twink sass him.

Still, rather than obey immediately, he had to posture a bit. “What the fuck, Stiles?”

“Come here.” Stiles was quieter this time but Derek was well familiar with the determined look on his face.

His boyfriend slid to the edge of car hood to meet him. Stiles’ expression was comically exaggerated as he looked suspiciously left and right, as though checking to see who was around.

“Come on, Stiles. Stop with the clowning. I nee-” Derek’s words cut off with a grunt when Stiles grabbed his arm and pulled his hand to his mouth to lick his sticky-smeared fingers.

With everyone else sequestered in the ice cream shop at the moment, Stiles began shamelessly sucking Derek’s digits. Warm tongue working between calloused fingers he continued pantomiming his oral service skills pretty well, all the while staring straight into astounded green eyes.

Now it was Derek’s turn to glance nervously about. Stiles hummed teasingly around two fingers.

“Shit... Stiles...”

Derek knew just how good Stiles was with his mouth; that agile tongue was well known for making its own brand of magic. _Yes, he’d trained Stiles well and his boyfriend’s oral acumen was as good as his own._

“Damn…”

His cock was already half hard and making a visible bulge on his jeans’ front. But how else could he be expected to act? Especially when Stiles was so perfectly mirroring his own blowjob skills. Almost as exactly as he had so recently used them while draped over the same hood Stiles was seated on right now.

Attention wandering again, Derek envisioned himself in Stiles’ place. Once again he was milking deputy Jesse’s dick with all his might, licking clean his own cum-dirty fingers. He could almost feel the heat of the deputy’s cum on his tongue, taste it in his mouth.

“You little _cocksucker_...” Derek teased, adjusting himself in his pants with his clean hand. He grabbed his balls and gave them an extra heft for good measure. This earned him a cocky smile in return.

“Thanks, sourwolf. It's my job you know...” Stiles spoke proudly after popping his mouth off every single finger, licking his lips nastily.

This display of naughtiness _(public naughtiness, no less)_ left Derek craving more. Staring at Stiles’ mouth he noticed it was now as dirty as his hand had been a few minutes ago, ice cream smeared around his lips and chin.

The sweet smell of salted caramel and horny/happy carried on the evening breeze, swirling around Stiles, only encouraged Derek’s lust. It made him want to bend his cheeky boyfriend over and do dirty things to him.

In answer to the fire Stiles lit in him, Derek suddenly grabbed a plaid sleeve and pulled his lover’s torso tight against his own. A moment later he closed his lips hungrily over Stiles’, caramel flavor and his boy’s desire exploding on his tongue.

For his part, outside his eager mouth, Stiles immediately went slack in Derek’s embrace. Without even a whimper of protest, what was left of his own cone fell to the ground to join the other one.

This display of submission made Derek growl. Hands moving restlessly around his boyfriend’s back, tugging at Stiles’ shirt, his tongue worked quickly, making a slobbery mess around Stiles’ mouth before licking it all clean.

Stiles kept his lips slightly parted, tongue ready and responsive while he allowed his mouth to be plundered. Derek’s beard scratched his pale face, pleasantly marking it, leaving the skin hot and red.

Derek was as voracious as a top as he was a bottom... O _kay, I’m lying, nothing could beat Derek’s power-bottom hunger._ Even so, he deepened his kisses while rubbing his boner over Stiles’ hip. As he rutted against him he loved the way  Stiles shivered under his touch.

Stiles hands moved down, splaying wide over Derek’s butt to pull his dick tighter against him. When he squeezed round cheeks, another string of semen escaped Derek’s ass adding to the already sizeable amount that had leaked from him so far that night.

The sensation of Kyle drooling out of him made Derek’s eyes snap open, shining blue.

“Alright, let’s go home. I need to fuck you right now,” he rumbled, stealing another kiss from already  swollen lips.

“Oh, I like that idea…” Stiles groaned chasing after his mouth for more kisses. “Sooo much”

It was an effort for them both, but they finally managed to disentangle themselves from each others’ arms. Once free, they quickly hopped into the Camaro and roared  off to Stiles’ house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I am always honored to have my name aligned with Benn's, full credit for any fic that shares our names has to be given to him for the story and its contents, this one included. Since his first language isn't English, I am merely the polisher of these gems. (It's a privilege I treasure and my greedy way to get to preview all his glorious filth.)
> 
> So I hope you'll comment and encourage him to keep adding to our library of Derek Hale objectification and debauchery.
> 
> \- Always_Bottom_Derek


	2. Forbidden Fruit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know from the comments left on the previous chapter, Kermee's question and Benn's response, it might seem like we're anti-Sterek. Now, this isn't necessarily true. What is true, however, is that we get great pleasure from transgressing the fandom entrenched boundaries of this pairing.
> 
> Call me an iconoclast, but this sort of rupture is very freeing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it as well.
> 
> A_B_D

With his frantic spawn whisked away, the Sheriff had been enjoying a rare, peaceful Friday night on his beloved couch, drinking beer and watching  baseball.

 _The Dodgers were winning with 10-6 over the Mets, in case you’re curious_.  

Fridays had become a regular “date night” for him too, only his hot rendezvous was with some “shit food”, as his son had dubbed it. It was an illicit affair he’d been conducting for some time now, stopping for his favorite forbidden fast food on his way home from the station.

It was shameful John knew, the thrill he got, seeing if he could keep his contraband calories hidden from Stiles. Particularly given his son’s relentless policing _(pardon the pun)_ of his diet. But even though John knew his homegrown warden only did this out of concerns for his health, even a law man couldn’t help breaking a rule now and then.

_Though in reality, his covert snacking was by far the least of his lawlessness._

Over the roar of the televised crowd, John’s brows rose in surprise when he heard a car rumbling out in his yard. Far earlier than he’d expected his attuned ears immediately recognized it as an engine he knew well: no doubt a 2009, black Camaro owned by a certain werewolf.

_A werewolf who happened to be not only his almost son-in-law, but his own personal, fucktoy-bitch as well.  Yeah, he knew the sound of that car just as sure as the sex sounds of the man he’d fucked countless times in it or over its hood._

Since it had been so often accompanied by Derek’s entrance down at the station, John's response to hearing the Camaro’s engine was a pavlovian pulsing in his cock, 

See, they had a little code going, where Derek would show up saying something was wrong under the hood of his car,  “a _problem” only the Sheriff, with his mechanical expertise, could “fix_.” When his bitch said that, if things weren’t busy at the station, he’d hop into that car and he and Derek would head out to the boonies to fuck.

_On these little excursions John rode shotgun before riding the Camaro’s driver. And I guarantee, once he started tinkering, he’d never failed to get Derek’s engine revving._

At the moment, however, the sheriff wasn’t thinking about fucking Derek. _(Not too hard anyway.)_ Instead, he was more concerned with trying to hide the fries and half-eaten hamburger _(his third)_ that sat incriminatingly out on the center of his coffee table.

Unfortunately, while scrabbling to conceal the evidence of his caloric carnage the fry box slipped from his greasy fingers, scattering fries over the table just as  Stiles came through the front door.

_Busted!_

Listening as the boys entered, John frowned a moment at how breathless his son sounded.

“Wait, Der… Dad’s going to hear you…”

Then, a pink-cheeked Stiles stumbled into the room, Derek fast on his heels. In fact, Derek was following so close on Stiles’ ass he ran into him when he abruptly stopped.

“What is this?” Stiles voice cracked like he was fourteen again. _That’s just about how old John felt too, at the scolding glare his son shot him._

Stepping further into room,  Stiles looked accusingly down at the mess strewn out over the coffe table. Gaze shifting between the crap food, his son’s narrowed eyes, and Derek’s smirk, the sheriff tried to come up with some convincing argument.

“Now, Stiles...”

Even before he got started, it was clear Stiles wasn’t having it. He stood, lanky arms crossed over his chest, one foot tapping impatiently against the floor. While his judging eyes scanned his dad’s guilty face, Derek hovered behind him, clearly trying to hold in his laughter.

“I can’t believe you ate all this crap while I was out with Derek!”

“Don’t give me grief tonight, okay.” John rubbed the back of his neck as he feebly protested. “I’m tired, Stiles. Today was a dogshit day at the station and I needed a treat. It's not like a ‘slip’ now and then is gonna kill me.”

“No, but I might. You know how bad that stuff is for you…” Seeing his father making unexpected puppy dog eyes at him, Stiles shook his head and huffed, “I don’t know what to do with you, John Stilinski!”

Chuckling behind him, Derek decided to step in on this father-son conversation. He was well aware of the sheriff’s greasy friday peccadillos. His keen nose had caught the scent of burgers and fries more than once, coming in to drop Stiles’ off after their Friday dates.  

“Sti, c’mon, give the man a break. Let John enjoy a little junkfood. You know how hard and stressful his job is.”

Turning around to confront his betraying boyfriend, Stiles pulled his best offended face. “Derek! I’m trying to guard my dad’s health here and you’re not helping.”

Derek snorted and stood his ground, hoping his support would earn him a little extra “attention” from the sheriff later.

“Dude, he’s more likely to die from stress if you _don’t_ let him have a break once in awhile. I mean, come on, Stiles… How many times have you let him have something like this in the last three months?”

Stiles mouth was left in a wide open in a “O” at Derek taking his dad’s side. _Under different circumstances, Derek had always thought this was a very good look on him._

“Thank you, Derek.” John smiled, lifting up his bottle beer in cheers to Derek’s defense.

Derek smiled back, shooting him a sly wink whilst Stiles’ head turned rapidly back and forth between his two most beloved men.

Then despite all the arguments poised on his tongue, Stiles mouth closed with a snap. He knew it was fruitless to fight when Derek and his dad double teamed him. _(But that’s a scene for another fic altogether… Oh, god...)_

Resigned, Stiles had no option but to accept his defeat. He threw his hands up. “Alright, alright you win. _This time._ I know don’t stand a chance talking sense to anyone when the two of you are in cahoots!”

John smiled and had started to slump back into the couch when Stiles’ fixed him with a  calculating look and added, “ _But!..._ I only agree to overlook this...” Stiles’ index finger indicated the evidence of his dad’s arterial assault on the table to emphasizes his point. “ _If_ you’ll let Derek sleep here tonight.”

Between his son’s glinting eyes and Derek standing behind him with a cocky expression on his face, John considered the possibilities. He’d already had intentions of wrecking Derek’s greedy holes once “his boys” had come back from their Friday-Night-Date, but this offered him the chance for much more than the usual quickie.

_It was like the universe was conspiring to favor him. A pass of his fast food misconduct and now this? How could he let such a golden opportunity slip by?_

“Well, what option do I have, uh?” He made sure to look reluctant. “And as much as I do not want to think about what you two plan to get up to…” John made a show of wincing at his word choice and watched his son blush. “I do like it better, knowing you guys here, tucked in for the night.

“Besides I’m not finish this beer yet.” He shrugged and took a swig from the bottle in his hand before offering his own false surrender, “Sooo…”

Grinning from ear to ear, Stiles clapped hands happily. “Great! Don’t go to bed too late. And try not to dirty the room more than already is, okay? It’s hell try to clean fry grease out of the carpet.”

John face grew amused at his son’s statement. “And I’m sure you know this better than anyone else, don’t you? _Mr._ Curly Fries.”

Rolling his eyes Stiles deflected the jibe. “Don’t try to be cute, old man. I’m the sarcastic Stilinski here.”

“Like father like son,” Derek chuckled, smirking at John.

This earned another exaggerated eyeroll from Stiles but now that he had his father’s blessing, he was too eager to get Derek up to his room and unwrap that godlike body to want to bicker any more.

He grabbed Derek’s hand. “Alright, cheekywolf, let’s get upstairs before you two conspire against me any more.”

Stiles stepped around the coffee table, Derek in tow, to give a quick peck to John’s cheek. “Night, Dad, love you.”

Then he headed off, pulling Derek along behind him by the hand as he headed to his bedroom.

“Love you too, Son.”

While Stiles was hurriedly dragging Derek upstairs, his eyes fixed on the prize of his bedroom door and what was soon to happen behind said door,  his boyfriend, meanwhile had glanced back over his shoulder.

Green eyes hungrily watched John gulping his beer, his adam’s apple moving up and down with each swallow. Seeing he was being observed by John just as intently, Derek adopted a cocky smirk guaranteed to incite a premium ass pounding. He flicked his tongue out slowly and moistened lips before calling out.

“Goodnight, John.”

The Sheriff’s lips left the beer bottle but not before first lewdly thrusting his tongue into its opening. He raised the bottle then in silent salute while his free hand moved down and groped the promising bulge at his crotch.

“Goodnight, Derek.”

* * *

 

Behind the closed door of Stiles’ bedroom, the night went exactly as Stiles had hoped and Derek had teased. Once inside, their mouths immediately sought each other. Lips and tongues locking together, wet, frantic, and dirty, as they shed their clothes, the rest of their flesh soon followed after.

It was a wild thrill for both of them, although for different reasons,  knowing that Stiles’ dad sat just a few feet below them, no doubt with the volume of his ball game now turned higher than usual.

 _At least this was Stiles’ expectation._ _Though Derek had heard the sheriff turn the volume down to almost off, hoping to eavesdrop._ Spurred on by this knowledge, Derek made sure to burn all the calories he’d made Stiles eat in ice cream and then some.

He fucked his boyfriend twice in a row. _Hard._

The first time he took him, Derek made Stiles whine like a bitch in heat, egging him on the whole time to be louder. At first, Stiles refused, biting his forearm, pressing his face into a pillow to stifle his pleasured cries, afraid his dad would hear their frantic coupling.

The second time, when Derek heard John’s soft footsteps on the stairs, stopping just outside Stiles room, he became unusually verbal. Talking filth of epic proportions with Stiles’ loving every second of it.

It took some doing, but eventually Derek convinced Stiles that John was passed out in a fast food coma, and he’d heard his dad softly snoring in front of the tv.  This made their encore even better. Stiles making all kinds of wanton sounds, unknowingly playing to their unseen audience outside his room.

The smell of John’s arousal seeping under door drove Derek to new heights of fucking fierceness. It fired him up even more to feel the last of the deputy’s breeding jarred free by the furious thrusting of his hips. It dribbled from his ass and ran down his taint to drip off his swinging balls.

Under the spell of all this stimulus, by the time Derek came again, his own seed pumping into the condom he wore while embedded balls deep in Stiles ass, his poor boyfriend was left boneless.

Stiles limp body had about as much starch left in it as the damp sheets he was tangled in. The whole experience just invigorated Derek, however.  A thin layer of sweat glistened on his tanned skin, his breath came fast, but it was nothing in comparison to the gasping pants of the sweat-slicked, worn out boy beside him.

“Fuck.. Der…That. Was. In. Cred. Ible...”

Stiles struggled to get his words out, his breathing labored. His eyes were heavy-lidded and it was clearly taking every ounce of will he had not to simply pass out.

“You.. You... Weren’t kidding… About those… Extra calories... Huh?”

Lying on his back, hands tucked under his damp head, Derek looked down at his boyfriend, curled and clinging to his side. He pulled an arm out from under his neck and used it to pull Stiles closer to him before speaking, his voice casual and completely unwinded.

“I always keep my promises Stiles. You know that. Especially when it concerns to you.”

He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to Stiles shining, sweat-beaded forehead. Stiles nuzzled up under his jaw, rubbing the bridge of his nose drowsily against stubble. A hand slipped across Derek’s chest to tweak a nipple in an exhausted tease.

“Yeah.. You.. Do… ”

Derek chuckled at the sleepy mumbling and tenderly kneaded the back of Stiles neck.

“Go ahead and sleep, babe. You earned it.”

Stiles hummed in happy agreement, too fucked out for any more words before blacking out completely.

Once he was out, Derek stared up at the ceiling. He listened to John slip into his own bedroom heard the shower start in the ensuite bathroom. _The sheriff was taking a cold shower no doubt._ That was one of the things he had always admired about the man: John had amazing control... When he wanted to.

Unlike the young man softly snoring beside him, Derek was far from spent. He nestled back into the pillows behind him, his stomach doing a pleasureable flip as his anticipation for the rest of the night built.

He absently stroked the soft bristles at the nape of Stiles neck and wondered how long it would take for John’s gut to settle before the man would be ready for a midnight snack…

A second course for the Sheriff’s “forbidden-fruit-Friday.”


	3. Thirst Quenching

Once Stiles really started deeply snoring, Derek disentangled himself from his boyfriend’s lean limbs. While his exhausted beau unconsciously starfished out on the bed, he slipped into his cum-stained briefs and headed downstairs.

Thirsty from losing so much “fluid” during their double bout of sex he quietly padded to the kitchen to get himself a drink of water. On his trek he chuckled softly thinking about how Stiles reacted to his pounding and the dirty talk.

The junior Stilinski was no doubt a slut in training: almost always insatiable, demanding all the stamina he knew a wolf could give. But this time, Derek had finally managed to wear Stiles out completely. Which was fortunate because he had definite plans to give his cock a break now and and put his needy holes to use for the rest of the night.

Derek's superior vision meant didn’t need to bother with lights ( _and even if he hadn’t been a werewolf, he’d creeped in the Stilinski home enough to know its layout by heart_ ).  Slipping easily into the kitchen through the darkness he made his way to the fridge.

He pulled open the refrigerator door, scavenging amongst its chaotic contents until he located the filtered pitcher. Rather than drink straight out of the container, he grabbed a cup from the drying rack by the sink and filled it.

_Just because he was a werewolf, didn’t mean he was an uncivilized animal._

As the sound of pouring water filled the quiet room, his sharp ears caught a soft shuffling, the steady beat of a strong heart beneath this. Turning his head, though not enough to indicate he was aware of another presence, he noticed a shadow moving in the penumbra cast by the still cracked refrigerator door.

Knowing exactly who was lurking behind him made Derek’s drained balls suddenly feel weighted and full again.

Even after John’s shower tonight his signature scent still carried an added hint of gunpowder and the sharp tang of alcohol. Nostrils flaring discreetly to drink in his stud's intoxicating and oh so familiar musk, Derek was hard pressed not to drop his briefs and present. Enjoying the shivery feeling of being prey right then, however, he decided to play dumb.

Cool water sluiced down his throat at the same moment a warm embrace wrapped around him from behind. A hard, solid body covered his nude back, while large hands snuck around his waist, pulling him backward. A moment later a hot mouth latched onto the right side of his neck; white teeth biting down on sensitive skin.

“Are you a wolf of a rabbit?” The question was asked by a voice still muffled in his skin. “Cause, Christ, the way you two fuck-bunnies were going at it, I thought you’d would never stop!” The Sheriff said this as lips, tongue, and teeth teased along Derek’s jugular, making him quiver.

Snorting in amusement, Derek reached a hand back behind him to work his fingers into John’s dark blond hair and pull his nipping mouth harder against his neck.

“Ain't my fault Stiles is insatiable…  Like I said before, ‘like father, like sooo’... _Fuck!_...” Derek groaned as the strong arms holding him gripped tighter and hands found their way to his nipples while John rutted up against him from behind.

John licked a long stripe up Derek’s neck. He hummed appreciatively while peppering sucking kisses to the base of his ear.

“I can taste my son on your skin…”

“Shit, John…” Derek panted, his balls hitching and cock springing to life. “Don’t say stuff like that…”

John buried his nose in the hair behind Derek’s ear and growled. Strong fingers pinched and twisted his nipples. “You know I wouldn’t if he wasn’t almost legal. But don’t give me that, Hale… Of age or not, that’s exactly the kind of filthy talk a dirty slut like you loves…”

He released one of Derek’s burning nipples and ran his palm down hard abs before grinding his palm against the clothed bulge of Derek’s cock. Then he shifted his grip, capturing his slut’s shaft. His broad thumb made circles over the soft cotton covering the still sex-sensitive head of Derek’s dick.

“Tell me you don’t think about me balls deep in my baby boy when he’s got his mouth on your cock.”

Rubbing his evening stubble against the tender edge of Derek’s ear John continued, his words making both their breath catch. “Swear you don’t imagine yourself as the filling of a ‘Stilinski sandwich.’ Stiles and I kissing over you, while your greedy holes are stuffed full at both ends.”

“Unh…” Derek had lost his words completely with this picture and with how well the sheriff knew him.

He had thoughts like this all the time. The fact he could smell John’s lineage in his son, in Stiles’ sweat, his seed, his blood, only exacerbated his fantasies. His cock was swollen now and dampening the fabric under John’s teasing fingers. And with his stud and his boyfriend’s sire’s boner pressing against his covered buttocks, Derek couldn’t resist canting back.

He’d just managed to catch the delicious slide of hard cock in the thin cotton-covered valley of his ass when John pulled his own hips back. Derek growled at the loss.

“Tell me you think about it, Boy… And I’ll let you have it back.”

His bitch-fever rising to a desperate pitch, Derek found his words at last, even if they were uttered in a voice all but breathless.

“Oh, fuck me… Yes, Daddy… Yes.”

With Stiles so fresh in his mind, John grunted in pleasure and approval at the title. One Derek rarely used but he loved hearing.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes… I… I… think about it… All the fucking time. Want you both so much…”

He was rewarded by the return of a thick dick bulge rutting against him again. The sheriff’s heavy shaft pressed his round cheeks apart and slipped into the groove of his ass crack like that furrow had been made just for it.

“I don’t know if you deserve the gift of my dick.” John’s hand left his slut’s leaking cock to grab his hip, bracing so he could rut harder. “Only _good boys_ get my dick.”

“I’m a good bitch boy for you though… Aren’t I, _Daddy_?”

Pleased by the desperation in his fucktoy’s voice, John hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t sound convinced.

“I had anticipated you’d show up here earlier tonight than you did, looking fuckable and ready for me and my son… Been waiting all goddamned day to see my beautiful bitch..”

The Sheriff’s hand left Derek’s other nipple, now throbbing red and swollen, to run up and down his slutwolf’s torso, smoothing over ripped muscles. Derek ground back, rubbing his round ass against John’s rock-hard erection.

“Why did you take so long to get here? Huh, Baby? You left Stiles worried as fuck...” John asked. “That hardly seems like something a ‘good boy’ would do,” he chided pulling Derek’s earlobe teasingly between his teeth.

“Ahn... Fuck... You won’t want to know...” Derek panted between frustrated growls. He needed John’s cock in him, like yesterday.

“Why? What kind of perverse activity was my filthy boy involved in?”

“Jesse and Kyle…  They pulled me over on my way here from my old house.” Derek grabbed John’s hand and slipped it up so he could take his fingers in his mouth. “They fucked me out in the boonies... “

He murmured around thick, calloused fingers. “I got here as soon as I could.” Sliding off John’s digits, he took the sheriff’s hand and moved it downwards. “I didn’t even have time to clean up proper.”

As much as he hated to break their rhythm Derek shifted away enough the urge John’s hand under one of the leg bands of his briefs. The sheriff quickly caught on. He tugged the fabric aside to reveal the round cheek of his ass.

John's fingers slipped up to trace his slut’s puffy hole. Derek whimpered as his ass opened easily allowing him to slide a thick, spit-slicked finger into him to show his stud just how wet he still was inside.

“They pumped me so full…” Derek managed to interject the tiniest bit of guilt into his tone as he confessed. “I’ve been leaking their semen all night… Throughout my entire date with Stiles.”

John pulled his finger out and brought his hand up to catch Derek’s jaw. Derek’s mouth opened just as easily as his ass had to suck the filthy finger in.

“You dirty bitch.” John’s voice rumbled with approval. “You’re a shameless slut, Derek, you know that?” he huffed against Derek’s ear.

With this, Derek dropped any pretense of contrition. “I’m am… Daddy _.”_ He slurped around the finger, teasing it with his talented tongue. "And that ain’t changing anytime soon.” He slipped off and  turned his grinning face back enough to share a messy kiss.

They stayed there, mouths and tongues tangling, rutting against each other like dogs in heat. ( _An apt simile indeed, since at least one of them was clearly a dog-related.)_

Kiss muffled growls and moans overlaid the hum of the refrigerator until Derek broke away at last. He shimmied free from his stud’s embrace just enough to be able to fills his water glass again. But when he brought it to his reddened lips to take a drink, John stopped him, taking the cup from his hand.

“Hey! Give me that back. I’m thirsty.”

Smirking cockily John held the cup out of Derek’s reach. “Oh, yeah? Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you something to quench your thirst and cleanse your filthy palette.” He sucked in the contents of Derek’s  cup, all the while staring hard into the lust-blown eyes, glowing green in the pale light of the fridge.

Derek notice despite the amount water leaving the cup, there was no obvious motion at John’s throat. His Adam’s apple remained still and his cheeks bulged: he wasn’t gulping the liquid.

When the Sheriff finally set the glass aside, his cheeks were swollen with water. He pointed to Derek’s mouth and his slut immediately caught his intention and obediently opened, his lips stretched to a wide ‘O’, waiting for the treat.

Closing his mouth over Derek’s, John sloppily spilled the now warm water into his slut’s. Derek swallowed greedily, lust drunk in moments on the lingering flavor of the beer John had been knocked back earlier.

The overflow of his stud's gift flooded Derek’s mouth and soon dripped down their chins. Their faces were a slobbery mess. Derek’s made even more so, when John pulled away to coat Derek’s stubble with eager spit-kisses. His juicy saliva made Derek’s dark beard shine under the faint moonlight coming through the kitchen window.

Catching Derek by the shoulders, John spun him around, throwing him up against the refrigerator door. The impact of his body slammed it closed, leaving them now only bathed in moonlight.

A thick forearm pressed against Derek’s broad shoulders, pinning him in place.  John shoved his sweatpants-covered boner against his crack and humped. Derek pressed back into the grind as much as he could, his frustrated hole winking in anticipation.

“Still thirsty, bitch?” John rumbled into the nape of Derek’s neck.

Too turned on to speak, Derek hummed in agreement.

“Great. I have something tastier and warmer for you than water to quench your thirst.”


	4. Milk and Honey

Releasing Derek and spinning him around again, John pushed him down on his knees in front of him. While Derek could have turned the tables in an instant, he loved being manhandled like this; it made the tension in his gut pull even tighter and his hard, leaking dick strain against his briefs. 

Face inches from his stud’s huge erection, a dark spot already stained the front of John’s sweats. Derek sniffed. Then he inhaled again more deeply. Though John had showered, he’d pissed since then and put himself away without shaking. Where his dripping dick touched the fabric of his sweats Derek’s sensitive nose caught this scent, the tease of what he’d soon be getting, beneath the heavier scent of precome. 

His mouth already salivating for one of its favorite cocks, the added hint of John’s urine just made his mouth wetter. Within seconds a string of drool hung down from his already sloppy chin. 

Without even a glance up for permission, Derek dove in, dying for it. He mouthed along the sheriff’s thick length, tongue lapping over the grey fabric, widening the visible dark spot with his own saliva, until a rough hand grabbed him and pulled his head back by his bangs.

“Easy there, Tiger. Eager aren’t you? Why I’m not surprised?”

Derek groaned under the delicious sting of having his hair pulled. “John...”

“I know. I know.  You can’t wait to have this in your mouth, huh?” John grabbed his sweats-clad cock with his free hand, shaking it before Derek, whose tongue was already out trying to catch the bulge.

Finally, his stud relented and Derek wanted to weep with relief. The sheriff pulled his beautiful cock out. It was uncut and he teased his cockhungry whore, milking his dick near the head, pushing his foreskin forward and pulling it back before shoving his sweatpants’ waistband under his balls to give his bitch total access. 

Holding on still to Derek’s hair, John guided his pulsing cock to the wet cave of his slut’s mouth before speaking. 

“Keep your mouth open and don’t drop it. Got it?” It was the voice he used in tough interrogations and it sent a jolt of electricity shooting up Derek’s spine. “I don’t want one single drop wasted. Anything hits the floor; you’re gonna lick it up where it falls.

“Understand?”

Derek nodded best he could with such a tight grip on his head.

Anxious and eager, he closed his lips around John’s crown. He only had to wait a few seconds before the acidic taste exploded on his tastebuds. As promised, John’s piss was warm  _ (hot, in fact, in so many ways) _ and Derek started to gulp it down immediately. 

God, it was always amazing to him when he got to drink it from its source. Derek hummed, so pleased to be given such a treat. Cheeks hollowing between every swig he was almost purring. John’s hand loosened its grip on his hair.

“You like that. Don’t you, Baby?”

Derek looked up and nodded as vigorously as he could without risking John’s cock popping out of his mouth. His eyes shone with gratitude.

Then without warning, John shoved his whole length in making Derek gag. Between his thrust and Derek’s choking, his bitch inevitably spilled the last few swallows. Ignoring the gasping around his cock, as his stream slowed down, before he’d even fully stopped pissing, John started facefucking Derek.

Watching his cock slid in and out of slobbering, kiss-bruised lips, the sheriff admired how the yellow liquid leaking from Derek’s mouth soaked his stubbled chin. Despite the beer John had drunk earlier, his piss was a heady honey color, it ran down his personal urinal’s neck, dripped over Derek’s firm chest and ripped abs.

At this stage of Derek’s conditioning as an unrepentant man whore, he had mastered deepthroating and then some… _ After all, was a rare few who could pull of his signature black Hale/hole throat trick as the deputies had named it. _ So, his initial gagging was simply from the surprise factor, when John shoved the whole thing inside in one go. But after he caught John’s rhythm, the fat cock into his mouth was no problem. 

On the contrary, the Sheriff’s cock was his favourite to work on.

“Fuck, yes… I’ve missed this mouth!”

John balls soundly slapping  against Derek’s stubbled chin, the wolf lapped his tongue along swollen veins and a nice fat head.  _ The was good reason why Derek’s mouth tricks were famous among his station fuckbuddies. With a PhD in “cocksucking bitch,” he worked like a master, confident, self assured.  _

He went to the hilt, clenching his palate around Sheriff’s cockhead so perfectly slotted there. It was impossible not to feel the Sheriff’s orgasm rising up under such skilled mouth-work.

Through clenched teeth, John hissed above him, “Alright, alright, stop it, Bitch or I’m gonna cum.” 

Like a frisky pup with a rope in its teeth Derek growled in rebellion and increased his suction. Feeling his slut’s reluctance to let go, John growled back and gripped Derek’s bang tight again, dragging his head back, making his mouth pop off.

It was a glorious sight to see as he slid out of the sheath of Derek’s throat: dense strings of saliva connecting swollen lips to the red head of his cock before they broke, leaving a thick froth of drool and pre-jac dripping from both.

On his knees, one of Derek’s hands had slipped inside his boxers where it was working hard, pumping up his equally aroused cock. His jacking off was interrupted when the Sheriff’s grip in his hair shifted, pushing his face just inches from the floor.

“You know what I said about clean up.” John murmured above him. 

Immediately Derek noticed the drying droplets of urine on the laminate he’d lost in his choking. His tongue snaked out like a bear after honey to eagerly to lick the laminate. John bent over him, his firm hand guiding him to every spilled drop.

Once he was satisfied with the cleaning, silently the Sheriff pulled Derek up off his knees. As soon as they were both level John slid his hand from Derek’s bangs to grip the back of his head, pulling his slut’s rank mouth to him for a deep filthy kiss. Derek responded kissing fiercely back.

They kept up their quiet battle of tongues as John’s hand shifted again, this time joining his other. Grabbing fistfulls of lush ass, he hefted Derek up, lifting him. With large hands secured under his thick-muscled thighs Derek promptly locked his legs around John’s waist. His brief-covered cock rubbed against John’s slight, middle-aged paunch as he was carried over to the dining table.

As soon as Derek’s broad shoulders collided with wood, he bucked his hips and demanded,  “C’mon stud, get inside me. Now!” 

John shut him up with an erotic tongue lashing, but while Derek’s mouth was pliant, his hips thrust with fervor, his ass rubbing up and down John’s hard cock.

With Derek seated at the edge of table, John grabbed his briefs. With Derek’s help, they were soon left dangling off one foot. John quickly shed his own shirt as well and a simple push had his sweat pants pooling at his ankles.

A bit shackled by his sweats but unwilling to spend another second without his cock in his slut’s asshole, John clumsily shuffled up the table’s edge as he drug Derek’s hips forward. Once he had them position and made sure Derek was still adequately supported, he hoisted the wolf’s heavy thighs up and leaned forward, until Derek’s legs were on his shoulders.

As he put his cock at the entrance of Derek’s cunt, he admired how his bitch’s hole pulsed, his anal muscles clenched at the air like it was trying to catch his cock. Only too willing to oblige John plugged Derek with the fat head of his cock. 

Derek’s ass-pussy had felt wet enough when he’d fingered it earlier and besides, John knew how much his bitch liked the burn. So, the moment he felt that hungry hole open up to swallow him, in one quick motion, not caring about further lubrication,  he shoved it in one thrust. 

The sudden pressure  and slide in the werewolf’s magicked, ever- virginal hole made Derek shout.

“OH, FUCK!”

His exclamation was cut off by a heavy hand plastered hand over his mouth.

“Quiet, Bitch! You don’t want Stiles waking up, coming down here, and busting us with you impaled on my cock, do you?”

Derek said nothing, he only groaned in response; tears gathering in  the corners of his eyes at the ache. His greedy cunt was caught in that place of initial penetration, warring between the urge to suck John’s cock in deeper or shit it out. 

Whatever conflict his whore was feeling, the Sheriff didn’t care. Now that he was balls deep in his bitch he just start to pound. The sound of pelvis snapping against asscheeks resounded through the first floor of the house. 

Derek’s head was thrown back, his spine arched. Tears trickled down his cheeks. He grabbed the edges of the table, gripping them, white-knuckled, to brace himself against John’s onslaught. Beneath John’s hand he moaned and chanted a near silent mantra:

“Fuck, yesss…”, “Oh, God…”, and “Please.” 

Under the sheriff’s furious fucking and Derek’s werewolf grip, the table that had once belonged to Claudia’s grandmother started making cracking noises. The harsh drag of its legs lifting and dropping on the floor broke the night’s quiet. 

John’s rhythm faltered feeling something wet on the palm clapped over Derek’s mouth. When he realized his slut was licking his hand, he pulled it back, but only to harshly shove three fingers inside that needy hole. Derek took his stud’s fingers gratefully, sucking them off with all his Hale will like they were a cock, hollowing his stubbled cheeks in a way that struck the sheriff both sexy and beautiful.  

Despite John’s age, he was very agile. And Derek’s ass was like his personal fountain of youth, always bringing him back to his teen-athlete days. And even when his slut didn’t pull his refractory, he almost always had enough stamina for at least two rounds, depending on the degree of Derek’s cock hunger. 

His cadence resumed, John’s movements held a primal almost feline grace as he thrust. Derek did his best to match his moves, ass pushing up and down to catch the deepest thrusts possible. He was constantly clenching, trying to push the sheriff over the precipice and John didn’t appreciate being rushed. Pulling his fingers from Derek’s mouth, John grabbed him by the throat and shoved him hard into the table.

Derek strained his neck, loving the choking sensation. Seeing this, John pulled back and gave his face a light slap, before palming it. Forcing Derek’s finger-covered face to the side, until his slap-blushed cheek pressed against dark wood. 

Around the muzzle of thick fingers Derek panted, “Yes.. own me, John... own my ass c’mon!... Come in me, Daddy!”

“You motherfucker...” John growled in response, the title sparking his already imminent orgasm.

Unable to hold it anymore, he spilled inside his bitch’s ass. Feeling his Alpha stud’s semen breeding him, Derek released the sides of the table to clutch desperately at John arms. His nails left red crescents along the untanned skin of the Sheriff’s biceps. 

After his aftershocks subsided, John had clearly already forgiven Derek for making him spill sooner than he’d intended as he leaned down to fervently kiss the panting slut under him. Their tongues twirling together seamlessly, Derek offered his own silent apology. 

“So good... Oh, God, I love this shit...” Derek chuckled between kisses. “But…” He snapped eyes up to John, and they shined bright blue. “I want more. Need it.” 

Using his super strength,  he traded their positions, moving John to the side and making him lay on his back on the table. Within moments Derek was crouched on his lap, holding his stud’s softening cock inside by his sphincter. 

Both hand splayed on John’s broad chest, the wanton slut started working his magic, pulling John’s refractory. The sheriff hissed through gritted teeth  _ (he was still oversensitive from coming anyway, but having his erection brought back this way always stung a bit too) _ . 

This time it was Derek’s turn to ignore his stud’s discomfort. Using his ass immediately, he began milking John’s hardening cock as he bounced up and down on his revived length. John hands quickly found their way to Derek’s muscled thighs. He gripped them hard enough to leave fingerprints, though he occasionally slipped his hands up higher to cling to Derek’s undulating waist. 

Derek’s motions were languid, sensual, and nasty as he rolled his hips in heavy rotation.

“I feel you cum, still sloppy inside me,” Derek groaned but never stopped impaling himself on his stud’s dick. “Fuck, your cock is so good...” 

Just as the wolf had revived him, now Derek’s hole was leeching John’s cock empty again.  The sheriff could feel his strength being drained off but his slut more than made up for his passivity. Derek was completely drenched in sweat. Rivulets running down his carved abs, it beaded at the fringe of his bangs and fell in drops on John’s red face.

Derek was working the dick in his ass too hard to talk now. The only sounds were his heavy breaths, John’s pleasure/pained grunts, and the SLAP- SLAP -SLAP of skin on skin.

Derek’s only mission right now was to pump John’s fertile milk out of him. Every time he slipped his skilled ass up, it caught the fat cockhead in it. Then Derek contracted his anal muscles before sinking down hard again. He did this over and over again. 

As he rode, tiring out John just the way he did with Stiles, only now with his hole instead of his cock, Derek toyed with his nipples, pinching and pulling them. But the senior Stilinski still had some spark in him. He slapped Derek’s hands away from his tits and caught hold of them himself.

A low whine escaped Derek as his stud began to pinch and twist his pebbled nubs.

“Yeah.. Bounce on it, Slut... Show me how much that used hole of yours missed me these past few days.”

Taking this as a challenge, Derek sped up his tempo, once more making the wood table groan as though it might collapse under the weight of his lust.

Feeling his orgasm nearing again, John relented on Derek’s nippples so he could get a good, hard grip on Derek’s slick hips, signaling his bitch to his oh so awaited second cum-burst. Derek immediately stilled, keeping his bred cunt full of cock. Then he moved back and forth few times, clenching tight and relaxing until John came with a shout.

“Oh, fuck!...”

Feeling the thick, jetting semen painting his insides Derek couldn’t have been happier. He took up his own neglected dick. Swollen and leaking, it took only a few strokes before he came himself; spilling long, white ropes over john’s chest and face. Some of it even overshot the sheriff’s head to land on the table. 

After he’d had a couple minutes to catch his breath, Derek looked down at John, who was clearly totally wrecked. Then he leaned down to lick his own orgasm where it sat, drying,  on Sheriff’s body. Breathing labored, John finally managed  to speak. 

“Jesus Christ..”

The way he said it, this could have been a prayer or a curse.

Derek smirked proudly above him before dipping down to lap at John’s wet face. Then he kiss-shared  his own cum with with his stud, slurping and sighing at the bittersweet taste before swallowing it down. 

After licking John’s face clean of cum, he shoved his nose into John’s neck, inhaling the scent of stud. John’s hands moved down Derek’s broad back to hold at each ass cheek, shaking the firm muscles hard, pulling groans from his bitch as his seed squelched around his now sleeping dick.

They were so spent from their antics, John and Derek soon followed after, falling asleep together in a tangle of limbs right there on the kitchen table; the sheriff’s  soft cock still snugged in his slut’s sloppy hole. 


	5. Breakfast of Champions

Used to his early station schedules, waking up wasn’t usually too difficult for John. Today, however, the circumstances were a bit different. Rather than rousing in his comfortable bed, he woke to find himself lying on the rug in his dining room.

As his brain came online he was aware of a number of other things almost simultaneously: the crick in his neck, the hot body draped over him, and the sensation of something… wet and smooth nuzzling his “morning’s  glory.”

With a wince, he lifted his head just enough to glance down. His eyes were met with a  bobbing, dark-haired case of bed-head. Then the memories hit him as powerfully as the mouth working on him. John dropped his head back

John dropped his head back against the floor with a “thunk.”

Blinking up at the ceiling, last night’s “midnight table service” came rushing back. Above him, to his left, was the dining table where he and his bitch had fucked each other senseless and he realized that at some point he and Derek must have moved to the floor.  

Energetically giving John some extraordinary head right now beneath his sullied table, Derek seemed to have recovered much more quickly than he. Relaxing back to let Derek work, _Fuck,_ stiff neck or not, he had forgotten what an amazing sensation it was, waking up to a good blowjob.

Moving to hand to card his fingers through Derek’s wild morning hair, John lightly scratched his slut wolf’s scalp. Derek’s stuffed mouth didn’t stop but he groaned in pleasure at the touch.

John chuckled as, now he knew his stud was awake, Derek began to mouth him even more vigorously.

“Yeah, you’re such a good bitch, Sweetheart…” John closed his eyes and sighed. “Been so long since I’ve had the chance to wake up with you, I’d almost forgotten how wanton you are first thing in the morning.”

When the sheriff opened his eyes again, Derek was staring reverently up at him from under his thick eyelashes. His slut nodded assertively, lips stretched around his thick girth, one hand jerking off what didn’t fit inside his mouth.

After some hard sucking, he pulled off with a with an unconscious wet whine at the loss of the hot meat he'd been feasting on.

“You know what I like for breakfast, don’t you?” Derek covered his teeth with his lips and nipped lightly at the head of John’s cock eyes dropping for the merest of moments as he watched his balls hitch in response. “I want Stilinski macho-milk. But straight from source this time, pure…”

He growled, giving another nip, hard enough this time to make John grimace.

“Not mingled in Starbucks coffee like you give me at the station.

“C’mon, John, give it to me!”

Derek feinted like he was diving in for another love bite, but instead, as soon as the head of his stud’s cock was in his mouth, he went down again in one fluid move until his nose was buried in dark blond pubes.

John’s breath hitched at the feeling of the throat contacting around him. His hands reached down to grab ahold of Derek’s hair at his temples. He held tight, bucking his hips up into that heavenly hole.

“Fuck you, you greedy bitch… You…” Derek hummed and tightened his throat at the same time one of his hands closed around John’s balls, kneading them. The combination of these sensations made the sheriff gasp. “God damn, that’s good… Keep going… Yeah, that’s a good little cocksucker...”

Derek chuckled around his full mouth turning his full attention back to his meal, tongue lapping and lips closing around John’s cock. It didn’t take long under this treatment before the Sheriff came hard, shooting straight down his throat.

Swallowing it down as fast as John ejaculated, Derek hummed with contentment, making dirty “yummy” sounds until his stud was spent. Even then, he didn’t release John, instead, he nursed his dick clean dick until it went flaccid in his mouth again.

“Fuck…” John threw his head back, lacking the breath to say much more at the moment. After that, he was ready to crawl into his bed and sleep for another four hours.  “You, fucking incubus… I’m wasted..” He sighed, closing his eyes.

Derek laughed, licking his come-coated lips. “You’re gonna survive. C’mon, Stud… Let’s get out of here before Stiles wake up."

The mention of his son was a good a jolt to the sheriff’s system as a gallon of black coffee. His heart started jack-rabbiting in his chest. He popped up so fast Derek was dumped off his lap.

“Stiles! Oh my god! I forgot he’s upstairs. I don't want to think about him coming down and busting us right here.”

Derek pulled out of the heap he’d been left in with as much dignity as possible and started crawling around on the floor searching for his underwear. Once he found it, he stood and bent down as he stepped back into them.

Despite the Sheriff’s concern he took his time, just to tease John with the sight of his perfectly rounded ass. Even with all the cum stains on his briefs the fabric still framed his firm cheeks nicely. He completed his little show by snapping the elastic waistband before turning around to face his favorite fucker.

“Don’t worry. After the sex marathon I ran on him, that’s not going to happen. We were totally in the clear last night and, actually, he’s still sleeping now.”

Sitting on the edge of the table to prop his own weary ass up,  John shook his head, resigned to both their astounding level of callous corruption. _Not that this would keep him from fucking Derek again as soon as he had the chance._

Leaning forward he hooked his fingers into Derek’s waistband and pulled him by this in between his splayed thighs. His hands moved around to squeeze the very butt  that had been teasing him.( _God, he LOVED that ass_ ) just to say between kisses. “You’re a lost cause, Derek Hale.”

Smirking Derek responded, “No. I’m a fucking triumph, Sheriff,” before diving in for another fiery kiss.

* * *

Poor fucked out Stiles was still conked out, sleeping deeply, when Derek finally returned to his boy’s room. Assured his sweet, oblivious bottom wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, he darted into the bathroom and hopped into the shower.

It made him a little melancholic to have to wash away all vestiges of the Sheriff’s cum from his hole and his piss from body. Derek brushed his teeth thoroughly too, thinking the whole time that mint had nothing on the refreshing flavors of dick or his stud’s urine.

Once he was all newly-minted and clean, Derek stepped out the bathroom wearing only a towel and found himself greeted by Stiles awakening at last. His sleepy young lover’s face was adorable peeking out from under his favorite Star Wars sheets.

“Morning sourwolf,” Stiles said with a wide smile.

Derek returned the grin. “You think I’m sour? Try this...” He moved closer to plant kiss on his boyfriend's lips. Stiles hummed in delight.

When they pulled apart, Derek winked, “Morning.”

“I guess I’m still dreaming,” Stiles fell back into his pillows and stretched. “I mean, what are the chances I wake up to the sigh of your bare, glistening wet torso and fresh breath at this early hour?”

Rolling his eyes, Derek snorted,  “It's past 8:00, Stiles.”  He grabbed a pair of fresh briefs John had given him, since there was no way his bubble butt would fit in Stiles’ skinny ass shorts. He threw his towel at his oogling beau and pulled on the underwear.

“Man, Der… you fucked me so good last night…” The first blushh of the day bloomed on Stiles’ mole dotted cheeks. “I came so hard I’m still empty.” He waved his hands down at his groin. “Look… I didn’t even get wood this morning.”

Stiles grabbed the towel and then what would have been Derek’s pillow if he’d actually slept in the bed. He buried his nose in them and curled around them with a sigh, closing his eyes.

“Do you know how rare that is? I mean, I’m so tired, I swear I could sleep another four hours.”

Derek stepped over and pulled both out of Stiles arms, ignoring his lover's grabby hands.

“C’mon lazy bum… Get that cute, fucked out butt of yours out of bed and go take a shower. You dad said he’s gonna have breakfast downstairs waiting for us.”

“Dad made breakfast by himself?”

Stiles, blinked in disbelief, the last of his sleepiness fading away. That news was enough to pull him out of bed. Derek couldn’t help but smirk at his boy’s obvious tenderness, given the way he was moving.

“Okay… I admit, I helped him a bit.”

Throwing a smile to Derek’s direction, sore ass momentarily forgotten, Stiles launched himself into Derek’s arms and planted a big kiss on his mint-fresh mouth before teasing, “Who knew Derek Hale would make such a good housewife, uhn?”

Pushing the Stiles away, Derek chuckled between eye rolls. _If Stiles only knew all the domestic duties he’d aided John in…_ “Go on, you spaz. Before your dad goes to wild and burns something.”

Stiles laughed before tripping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

It wasn’t too much later the lovebirds met John downstairs, Stiles sauntering into the kitchen with Derek ambling along at his heels. He seated himself in his usual spot at the table, totally oblivious to the fact his most beloved men, dad and boyfriend, had been fonicating on this same furniture mere hours earlier.

Even though John had clearly scrubbed it down, Derek still caught the slightest scent of his and John’s mixed sweat and spunk ingrained in the table’s wood. He wondered if the sheriff had cleaned it with less than full vigor just to taunt him with the smell.

_The sly look John shot him confirmed this._

As they passed around John’s “breakfast of champions:” turkey bacon, scrambled egg whites, and only slightly charred gluten-free pancakes; Derek and John were bold enough to trade little glances and smirks. 

_Derek didn’t eat that much, having already broken his fast earlier._

Stiles sat right there between them, distractedly talking about his  usual teenage concerns. Though, as they were finishing up, he said something that managed to finally catch both men’s full attention.

“So, Dad…” Stiles blush was back again as he nervously stammered… “Uh...  How  would you feel about Derek spending the weekend with us?”

“Stiles..” John lifted one eyebrow in an oh-so-Derek-like fashion, knowing too well the intentions behind his son’s request. _Not that he wasn’t all for it, but he couldn’t show his son his eagerness._

“Please?” Stiles pleaded. “C’mon…” Then his voice became much bolder, “You know, you’re still in trouble with me for that crap-food feast I caught you with  last night.”

“Hey, don’t try using that against me again, Son. We already settled that debt.”

John sipped his coffee looking between Stiles hopeful eyes and Derek’s throat, his slut’s Adam’s apple moving at each gulp of orange juice, a mirror image of the wolf swallowing down his piss last night.

“Please…”

Sighing, John pretended resignation. “Alright, Stiles. Derek can stay the weekend... But only if he wants to.”

Looking between the two Stilinski men, Derek put down his glass and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’d love that, actually. Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome, Derek.” The Sheriff was all smiles and Derek, for once, wasn’t far behind him with his own grin.

“Thanks, Dad! You’re the best!”

“I’ll second that,” Derek’s face hadn’t lost its grin as he shot John a sly wink, he and the sheriff both knowing he was referencing and entirely different sort of appreciation.

Unaware of the silent communication going on around him, Stiles beamed. Then he returned to packing away more breakfast like he was a starving child. 

_After all, with Derek hanging around he knew he was going to be needing a lot of extra calories._

So excited to have his hot, sexy beau around for the duration, Stiles looked over to Derek and gave him a syrup-covered grin. John watched his slut and his son smile at each other, while Derek leaned forward to kiss clean a smear of maple at the corner of Stiles’ mouth.

Witnessing this, he rubbed a calloused palm over the worn wood of the dining table, his own wood growing beneath.

“Okay, guys… no PDA at the table, please.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of his declaration, given what he and Derek had done at the table last night. He wondered how many other places in the house he could have sex with Derek without Stiles noticing anything.

As Stiles blushed and Derek smirked, John’s grin widened knowing he had two more days now to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A deep thank you for everyone who read, left kudos and amazing comments. Your attention and appreciation are truly relished.


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